


Fight me?

by Blacklace



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Player(s), M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, best buddy Nate, but Tyson totally is a hockey player
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 16:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacklace/pseuds/Blacklace
Summary: Tyson keeps wanting to fight the hot doctor who takes care of him.





	Fight me?

**Author's Note:**

> I was scrolling through my insta explore page and... and there was [this screenshot](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bbz45MngdDB/) of a tumblr post? and if anyone knows the original author i'd love to give them some credit? 
> 
> disclaimer: im totally not a doctor, so please don't take this content too seriously
> 
> but anyway, here it is, totally not beta'd and stuff, im so sorry

Tyson is down with a cold, no big deal.

He’s a grown-ass man, he can handle a runny nose and a little cough. He can handle fever and chest pain, okay? He gets it way worse on the ice. Except maybe he’s just trying to fool himself and bullshit Nate who keeps shooting him these worried looks.

“I’m fine, seriously,” Tyson waves his hand in dismissal when he opens the door to Nate. He tries to play it nonchalant as pain stabs through his chest and sends him into a coughing fit.

Nate gives him a skeptical look. “Of course you’re fine, I can see that.” He shoulders his way inside Tyson’s house with what looks like hot chicken soup and a plastic bag from a pharmacy.

Tyson, still wrapped in a thick blanket, closes the door and trails behind Nate to the kitchen.

Nate keeps frowning all the while he’s heating up the soup on the stove and watches everything Tyson does with a judgmental look that even their coach would be jealous of. “Where’s your thermometer?” Nate asks and Tyson knows better than to lie.

“Top drawer over there,” he points to one of the kitchen drawer.

Nate rummages through it and when he finds it, he gently pushes Tyson towards the living room. “Take your temperature, okay? I’ll bring you the soup,” Nate guides him to the couch with a hand on the small of his back and his voice is a lot gentler than it was just minutes ago. Tyson is thankful for that because he doesn’t know if he could take much more of scolding. He’s been feeling weirdly fragile lately.

When Nate finally returns from the kitchen with a bowl of steaming soup, Tyson is drowsy and half-asleep in his blanket cocoon.

“Here, let me take that,” Nate pries the thermometer from Tyson and sets the soup on the coffee table. Tyson curls up to Nate the second he feels him sit down next to him. He’s been so cold today.

“Tyson,” Nate sighs, his voice sounding worried, but it’s hard to tell through the haze.

Nate cards his fingers through Tyson’s hair and kisses his temple. “Have you seen a doctor, Tys?”

Tyson curls up a little more, shakes his head. He doesn’t want Nate to yell at him.

“Okay,” Nate says while still playing with Tyson’s sweaty hair. “Have you been drinking enough water, Tys?”

Tyson shrugs. He’s been drinking water and hot tea, somewhat, but doesn’t know if it was enough. Nate asks him other questions, too, and then he helps Tyson eat some of the hot chicken soup.

By the time Tyson is finished he’s had two coughing fits and now he’s shivering uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna take you to the hospital now, yeah? You’re running a fever of 104, so don’t even try to argue with me.” Nate gives him a stern look and all Tyson can do is just hang his head between his shoulders and nod.

He doesn’t even try to argue, just changes his clothes to something a little more human, puts on a warm sweater and jacket and meets Nate by the door. He’d been hoping it was some kind of a flu and that it’d go away. But now that he can’t stop coughing and his lungs ache like he’d been doing bag skates all day, he thinks he probably should’ve seen a doctor couple days ago.

-

The ER is a nightmare. Nate tries to get them in as quick as possible, but it’s a lost cause. ER is an entire different world with a different set of rules.

Tyson feels too sick to argue with anyone, so he just slouches into the nearest vacant seat and lets Nate to cuddle him. His teeth are chattering like crazy and nothing can get him warm. He’s half-asleep again when the nurse calls them in. Nate goes with him and Tyson is glad he is because he’s exhausted. The doctor who sees them is an older woman and that’s about all Tyson notices before he blacks out.

-

He wakes up in a hospital bed, hooked onto all sorts of machines and an IV. The first thing he notices is that he doesn’t feel as cold anymore. Then he sees Nate next to him on a plastic chair, his hoodie covering his drooling face.

“Nate,” he says softly and then Nate jolts himself awake.

“Tys!” he lights up. “Man, you nearly gave me a fucking heart-attack!” he scoots his chair closer to Tyson and holds his hand gingerly in his. “Don’t do that to me, ever.”

Tyson tries to laugh at that, but everything hurts. “What happened?”

“Your fever was so high it made you faint,” Nate winces. “I told the doctors what I knew from you, they think it’s pneumonia but they need an x-ray to confirm.”

Just as Nate takes a breath in to continue the door opens and a doctor and a nurse walk in. “Mr. Barrie, right?”

Tyson’s mouth probably hangs open. He’s probably fainted again. That’s possible, right? Or the fever is making him see things. Hallucination is a possibility too, right? Nate tries to nudge him, but Tyson doesn’t notice. He’s transfixed on the doctor who just came in. Tall, blond, perfect beard, the bluest eyes Tyson has ever seen and so, so handsome.

Nate clears his throat. “Yeah, this is Tyson. He’s still a little out of it,” Nate says for him because he’s a good bro.

The doctor nods and takes Tyson’s chart from the bed. “I’m Gabriel Landeskog, I’m one of the doctors who’re working on the ICU.” He shakes hands with Nate and Tyson is probably drooling because holy shit are those muscles under that white coat?

“We’ll need to take an x-ray now, Mr. Barrie,” the doctor-Gabe, informs him. He asks Tyson a set of questions and Tyson is responsive for the most part and where he spaces out because the doctor is too beautiful, Nate chimes in.

“What do you do for living Mr. Barrie?”

“Tyson.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m Tyson,” he says slowly. “I feel old and like I’m dying when you call me Mr. Barrie,” he slurs. It has to be the fever speaking.

Nate laughs next to him. “He has age issues, ignore him.”

“Okay then, Tyson,” Gabe says and there’s something like a gleam in his eyes and wow. Tyson is so happy he’s here. “What’s your day-to-day job?”

“Hockey,” Tyson says with a stupid-ass grin.

“He means he’s a professional hockey player,” Nate corrects.

“Oh, really?” Gabe looks at them like he wants to categorize them. “Nobody else on your team showing symptoms of cold or flu?”

Nate thinks for a little while. “No, everyone is pretty much healthy.”

“Okay,” Gabe nods. “I’ll be back in a minute to take the x-ray.”

Nate gives Tyson a sympathetic look and Tyson doesn’t even care whether he has a pneumonia or what. He has the hottest doctor taking care of him. He can cope.

Then Gabe is back with a different nurse and a mobile x-ray machine and they take the x-ray while Tyson is sitting on the bed. He thinks his head will explode when he’s told to hold his breath.

“You can go home, you know?” Tyson tells Nate when he notices it’s getting dark and everyone else has left the room.

Nate gives him a skeptical look. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Tyson rolls his eyes. “Just… could you bring me some of my stuff, please?”

“You got it,” Nate smiles. “I’ll let the coach know you’ve been hospitalized and bring you everything first thing tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“You’re the best,” Tyson smiles.

They say their goodbyes and Nate ruffles his hair before he leaves.

-

Tyson gets the results of the x-ray and blood tests early in the evening.

“It’s pneumonia,” Gabe informs him. “It’s not life-threatening, but you’ve let it go into a serious state. We’ll keep you here until at least the fever gets better and your condition will improve.”

Tyson nods. “How long?”

Gabe puts the pen he’s been scribing with into the pocket of his coat. “Depends. Probably a week, if your body heals fast. But,” he says when he notices Tyson’s face lighting up. “You might need to take it easy for the next two to three weeks for your lungs and body to fully heal. Getting back to training too soon could cause complications and further problems.”

Tyson winces. “And the complications?”

“Well,” Gabe looks at him and has this very serious face that makes Tyson want to crawl under the blankets. “In extreme cases you could be dealing with a collapsed lung – a pneumothorax. That would put you out for even longer.”

Tyson nods. “So couple weeks of rest and then I’ll be as good as new?”

Gabe gives him a smile. “Exactly. Now get some rest, okay?”

And Tyson doesn’t need to be told twice, his eyes are burning and heavy from the rising fever. He goes to sleep the minute Gabe leaves the door.

-

He’s woken up in the middle of the night, or so he thinks, everything is blurry and fuzzy and his throat burns. And he sees someone in the room and the first thing he thinks to say is “Fight me.” because it’s probably one of his teammates pranking him.

The person in the room chuckles and comes to adjust his pillow, takes it off his face and puts it under Tyson’s head instead. “Maybe next time, okay?” the voice is soothing and familiar and Tyson falls asleep again.

-

When he wakes up in the morning he’s drenched in sweat, sticky and his chest hurts.

“Hello,” a smiling nurse walks in. “How are you feeling today?”

“Disgusting.”

She laughs and hooks a new IV bag above Tyson’s head. “I’ll take your temperature now and I’ll see if you could maybe take a quick shower, okay?”

Tyson nods and hopes that he’ll at least get a chance to shower.

He gets to shower while his fever is down, but the nurse keeps guard all the while he does so and it just feels extremely weird. But at least he’s clean now and his sheets were changed and then there’s Nate and the day seems to be a lot better all of sudden.

“Hey man, how are you feeling?”

Tyson snuggles under the blanket while the nurse hooks him up into all the devices.

“Better, I think. But I’ll be out couple weeks.”

Nate winces, but understands and tries to distract Tyson with stuff he brought him. “Your cell, iPad, pajamas, toothbrush, you know the drill,” Nate starts putting everything away and leaves the phone and iPad within Tyson’s reach.

It takes Tyson about five seconds before he bursts about the hot doctor. “Have you seen him, Nate?”

Nate groans, but indulges his friend. “Yeah, he is pretty hot.”

“Is he working today?”

“I don’t think so,” Nate frowns. “People here take 12 hour shifts, he probably has a day off today.”

Tyson sulks and feels his mood drop.

“Dude, don’t,” Nate laughs.

They bicker for a little bit and Nate tells him about the latest locker room gossip. Tyson appreciates it and lets Nate to talk him into sleep.

-

His condition doesn’t improve much even with the treatment he’s receiving. His fever is acting up and it gets bad every evening. Which means Tyson keeps babbling nonsense whenever anyone checks on him during the night. He also sweats a lot and it’s generally disgusting.

He gets woken up again during the night when the clip on his finger that’s monitoring his oxygen levels slips off and the machine starts softly beeping above him. Somebody walks in a Tyson thinks he’s in a hotel room with Nate and they’re about to head to a team breakfast, still hungover, and Nate tries to get him to wake up.

“Ughhh,” Tyson makes a noise. “Fight me.”

And the guy, Nate, probably, just laughs. “I won’t fight you.” And oh, Tyson _knows_ that voice.

“Whyyy,” Tyson whines and stirs, trying to see that beautiful doctor he’s been dreaming about.

Gabe chuckles. “Because I know you’d win.”

-

Other teammates go to visit him and the time in the hospital room that otherwise doesn’t pass at all passes somewhat quicker when his friends are around.

Tyson starts feeling a lot better by the end of the week, feeling a lot like himself again. The fever has gone down significantly and so has the cough and chest pain. Gabe comes one afternoon to ask some check-up questions and he seems satisfied with Tyson’s answers as well as the latest x-ray and blood tests.

“You can let your boyfriend know he can pick you up on Sunday.”

Tyson looks at him like he’d grown another head. “Boyfriend? What boyfriend?”

“Uh…” Gabe looks around the room. “The guy wo brought you in? I thought you guys were…”

Tyson wants to facepalm himself. Of course he’d think that they were a couple when he probably saw Nate holding his hand and kissing his temple on multiple occasions. “You mean Nate,” he says and laughs a little. “He’s my best buddy,” he explains.

“Oh, okay,” Gabe says, a little taken aback. “Anyway, we’ll release you on Sunday after breakfast, so he can pick you up then.”

Tyson’s heart jumps a little in his chest because _freedom_ , but it also sinks a little because no more seeing Dr. Gorgeous.

“Thank you,” Tyson says and thinks he blushes a little when Gabe gives him one of those big smiles.

-

Nate waits patiently while Tyson brushes teeth in the tiny hospital bathroom. When Tyson walks back to the room to get the rest of his things and finally leave, Nate points at the nightstand with a very important facial expression. There’s a cup of coffee on there that Tyson is sure wasn’t there before.

“Why are you pointing at your coffee?” Tyson asks, confused.

Nate rolls his eyes. “Not my coffee, it’s yours.”

“But I didn’t…” Tyson is already walking towards the nightstand, curious. He picks up the hot coffee cup. It’s plain white, only there’s some writing on it. “What the-“

 **_Fight me?  
_ ** **_303-555-0132_ **

Tyson blushes hard and his smile threatens to split his face.

“Ready to go?” Nate arches an eyebrow at him. He probably saw Gabe bring the cup in and knows what’s up.

Tyson bites his lip and tries not to sound too eager. “So ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> it was lame wasn't it
> 
> a follow-up might ensue


End file.
